


The Trouble With Intel

by Kidd_you_not



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: AIM - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America Sam Wilson, Kidnapping, M/M, Mandatory Fun Day, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Redwing saves the day, So much bickering, kind of enemies to friends to lovers if that trope could be condensed into 3k words, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22632868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kidd_you_not/pseuds/Kidd_you_not
Summary: It’s a rare good day in Clint’s life that sadly ends with him tied up in the back of an AIM van, sitting right next to one grumpy Winter Soldier. If only it had been anyone but Barnes, for christ’s sake, because they haven’t yet managed to meet without them ending up wanting to kill each other.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551463
Comments: 27
Kudos: 141
Collections: Mandatory Fun Day





	The Trouble With Intel

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got some time after my last exams, so here I am once again. I hope you enjoy my take on Mandatory Fun Day’s prompt: Sam Wilson appreciation society.
> 
> The dynamic here’s a little inspired by the Tales of Suspense series.

It was after a relatively short but successful SHIELD mission that Clint strolled down the street, coffee in hand and smile on his face. It was the good, expensive stuff from that one coffee shop he never went to unless he was in a _really_ good mood and wanted to spoil himself. Having changed into sweatpants after ruining his gear yet again and carrying his bow and quiver hidden in a gym bag at his side, he elicited no kinds of attention; exactly the way he preferred it after a day like this.

He ignored the pedestrians hurrying past him, the traffic and the noise all around him and turned his head into the sunlight, smiling broadly. The universe could really give him more days like this. It must have listened and decided to be petty because not even a minute later Clint’s eyes flew open at the sound of screeching tires, screaming people and then, gun shots.

He whipped around, dropped his coffee and didn’t even have the the time to mourn its loss before he had to jump. He fell into a roll, gym bag clutched to his chest and stared after the shock of light he’d almost collided with. It had scorched a hole into a nearby building and he had to swallow. _Aw, come on, not again_ , he thought as he spotted the yellow hazmat suits running around, wielding big, clunky guns. He’d fought them only last week and they were already back in attack mode? He groaned.

Swiftly, he pulled his bow and quiver out of the bag and strapped them on. He’d have to find the source of today’s weirdness, no matter how much he’d rather be at home right now. Further up the street, where the noise and chaos seemed to be concentrated, he spotted a flash of black and silver in between the yellow and cursed. He really wasn’t in the mood for the Winter Soldier today, for fuck’s sake.

He started running, swerved into an alley and jumped to catch the fire escape ladder of a rundown apartment building. He pulled himself up and scrambled to get on the roof. The bruises on his side twinged but he ignored them. Having reached the top, he slid to a stop at the edge of the rooftop, pulled an arrow out of his quiver and looked down. Bucky really wasn’t doing so hot and it took him a second to spot Redwing agitatedly soaring through the air, screeching. Where the hell was Sam?

He nocked the arrow, drew and fired before the beekeeper behind Bucky could get any closer and he didn’t stop firing until he downed the last of the dozen AIM agents only a few minutes later. Self-satisfied, he grinned and tipped the Winter Soldier, who was now staring up at him, a salute. However, a metallic sounding clang and footsteps behind him made him jump and turn around with his heart in his throat. “Shit!” he yelled and brought his arm up to block the incoming fist. The AIM agent fell with a well aimed elbow to the face but he was replaced by two, four, then six others. He had to drop his bow.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_ , Clint chanted in his head. He’d have done it out loud but after less than a minute, he was too winded to waste his breath. He ducked under a punch and kicked someone’s legs out from under them but when he tried to evade a high kick, he realised they had him surrounded. And these weren’t the untrained amateur fighters that usually came in number. Clint wondered for a second where AIM had found such good personnel before he took a punch to the gut and what felt like a taser to the back.

Groaning in pain, he lay on the ground, six enemy agents standing over him. And the day had started out so well.

They bound his hands behind his back, dragged his struggling ass back down the fire escape and threw him into the back of an armoured van. He tried to break free, tried to yell for help or look around to find Bucky but they had him gagged and immobile before he could do any of those things. His only solace was Redwing, still circling above them. _Sam can find me_ , he thought before the doors closed, leaving him in the dark.

It took him a few minutes, in which the van he was in rumbled to life and started moving, but eventually he managed to spit the gag out and he turned around to find a position that would allow him to somehow lose the zip ties around his wrists and ankles. And when he did, he abruptly realised just why Barnes hadn’t been there to help free him from AIM.

“Barnes?” he whispered, “Hey, man, you okay?” But Bucky’s eyes stayed stubbornly closed, not even a tiny twitch of an eyelash, and he couldn’t see whether the other was still breathing or not.

His heart squeezed and he rolled onto his stomach to rob forward until he could nudge Barnes awkwardly with his shoulder. With dread in his voice, he tried again. “Bucky?” There was no reaction. Clint wanted to start panicking but before he could, his nose caught a faint smell he couldn’t immediately place and with a grimace and a muttered apology, he shoved his nose into Bucky’s hair.

He inhaled and immediately tried to scramble away, coughing and gagging. “Fuck,” he rasped. They must have used gas on him, the special kind that could knock even supersoldiers on their asses. No wonder the guy was out cold. Still coughing, he rested on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He hadn’t bothered to keep track on their route because he knew that only worked in movies; and not even the good ones. Also, Redwing was probably following so whatever AIM had planned for them, the Avengers would probably find them before anything too bad happened.

He grimaced again. They could really have kidnapped another superhero with him, though. Like, anyone else. He’d even take the spiderkid and have his ears talked off for hours on end. Why did it have to be _Barnes_? Because as much as Clint respected the other man’s skills, he also found him to be the most irritating man he had ever met as well. _Including_ Tony, which was saying something.

He robbed back to the opposite side of the vehicle and decided to enjoy the time before Barnes woke up as much as he could.

Propped up in the back corner, he studied the Winter Soldier warily. Him and Bucky, they hadn’t really clicked, not like the rest of the team had. He wasn’t sure what bothered him about the guy but every encounter they had ever had, had quickly spiralled into veiled insults and ruffled feathers. Pun intended. This must be the first time they weren’t at each other’s throat within 5 minutes of seeing each other and funnily enough, it was because one of them was unconscious.

The van hit a bump in the road and Clint grimaced at his jostled bruises. He was lucky he hadn’t broken anything and that AIM had seemed to be in a hurry. He was sure though that they had a very _special_ time planned for them for when they arrived at the base.

He sighed. “Torture always makes me look so ugly,” he mumbled under his breath.

“That’s not the torture, that’s just your face.” Clint flinched and sputtered.

“The fuck Barnes, don’t fucking do that!” he yelled, ignoring the high pitch his voice had taken to. “How long have you been awake, anyway?” Damn, had he been conscious when Clint had sniffed his hair? Had he also noticed him almost puking all over Bucky? He shook his head forcefully to dispel the thoughts.

Bucky groaned and rolled so his face wasn’t pressed to the floor anymore. “For like ten seconds, so can you please be quiet? My head is splitting open.” Clint tried to shrug, then remembered his bound wrists.

“Yeah, that must be the gas.”

“No shit.” Bucky scoffed. Clint’s eye twitched. Barnes hadn’t even been awake for a full minute and he was already going straight for it.

“Have some respect, Junior,” he taunted. Clint didn’t know much about Bucky, but he did know how to really rile him up.

It seemed to work. “Call me that one more time and I’ll throw you out of this fucking car,” Bucky growled. Clint raised an eyebrow.

“Stop encouraging me,” he chided. Bucky growled again.

Then, he sighed. “Where are we anyway?”

“In the back of an AIM van.”

“Heading where?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “How would I know?” They were silent for a bit.

Until Barnes opened his mouth again. “Sam’s gonna find us.”

“Sure he will,” Clint muttered, “the question is when. I saw Redwing watching us but no Sam anywhere.” Bucky grunted and rolled from his side to his back, testing the restraints. His hands and feet were clasped in what looked like heavy iron shackles, completely encasing forearms and lower legs.

“Yeah, we split up,” Bucky said.

“You what? Are you idiots?” Barnes glared.

“Shut up, Barton. You don’t know the mission.”

“There is a _mission_?” Shit that was bad. If it had been a mission it was likely that neither Bucky nor Sam had called the Avengers for back-up. SHIELD maybe, but only maybe. He’d kind of expected them to have stumbled upon AIM doing their nefarious business like he had.

Barnes grunted again. “It was covert ops, so-“

“It was covert ops?” Clint interrupted incredulously. “That shoot out in the streets of Manhattan was you on a covert operation?”

“Shut the fuck up, Barton, what do you know?”

“I know we are royally fucked, that’s what I know!” His voice rose. “The hell Barnes, what was your plan? Let them beat you until Captain America came running?” He gaped.

He could almost hear Barnes’ teeth grinding, that’s how tightly clenched the man’s yaw looked. He averted his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. “We had bad intel.”

Clint rolled his eyes again. “Of course you had. And now we’re on our way to fuck knows where, off to be tortured until we A, go insane or B, develop super powers.”

“Hey, I don’t remember asking you for help, princess!”

“And you got it anyway, two ass kickings for the price of one!” Bucky‘s legs jerked and Clint almost started laughing hysterically when he realised that Bucky must have been trying to kick him.

“Barton, I swear,” Bucky hissed, “if you don’t shut up right now you’ll regret it.” Clint knew that he was most likely punishing Barnes for something that wasn’t his fault but he had to vent somehow. It was a hundred times better than panicking, anyway. But he clamped his mouth shut regardless.

After a while, Bucky side-eyed him but Clint stubbornly refused to meet his eyes. “It’ll be okay, I swear. Sam’s probably mobilising all of SHIELD right now and we’ll be out in no time.” Clint groaned.

“Barnes, you really don’t have to comfort me here. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to roll his eyes. “Someone’s a little sensitive today, I see. Calm your tits, Barton, I was just stating facts. Sam will be here soon and we’ll go home before we kill each other.”

Clint tried to keep it in, he really did but the antagonism hadn’t quite left him yet. He blurted, “As if you could kill me anyway.” Bucky’s eyes whipped from the ceiling to him so fast that Clint’s eyeballs stung in sympathy.

“Oh, you know what, you little shit!” Barnes rolled over again and robbed towards him. “I don’t fucking need my hands to kick your ass!”

“Fucking try, Junior, I’ll show you-“ It was then that the van took a sharp left corner and Bucky, who’d been in the process of struggling upright, was thrown forwards at a frankly alarming speed. Right towards Clint. Time seemed to stand still when their widening eyes met. Then, Bucky’s forehead connected with Clint’s nose with a sickening and all too familiar crunch. _Aw, not the face again_.

Clint yelped in pain, his eyes tearing up, and felt the warm flow of blood coating his lips and chin. He didn’t really feel much else. Not even Barnes, who was now frantically trying to wiggle out of his lap. Under any, _any_ other circumstances, he’d even have enjoyed it. Groaning, he pressed his head against the metal behind him.

When Barnes finally managed to get upright again, he gaped. “Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry, Clint.”

“Barnes,” Clint mumbled through the tears and pain, “Barnes, I will kill you. I-“ He stopped to spit out blood. “I won’t even draw it out, my rage will make it quick and painful.” He couldn’t really see much, but he thought Bucky winced.

“Yeah, I get that.” And he actually looked sorry, the bastard. Clint would really have liked to have the range of movement to wipe at his fucking face but he had to content himself with spitting out more blood.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain. “God, I wish I’d gone straight home instead of buying that coffee. What was I even thinking, that the universe _wouldn’t_ try to ruin my day? Shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said again and he really sounded the part.

Clint was about to say something but the van hit a pothole, making the back of his head slam back against the metal behind him. He could only groan again.

Distinctly, he caught Bucky’s horrified “ _Oh, my god_ ” but he wasn’t too sure about that. He just wanted to be home with his dog and intact bones, for fuck’s sake.

They were silent for a few minutes, which Clint really preferred because he didn’t have the brain power to return Bucky’s verbal jabs. Then, his eyes tore open when he heard the unmistakable sound of tires skidding on gravel right before their own vehicle came to an abrupt stop. With a shout, he curled up mid slide and wheezed when his back hit the front metal wall. _Again, I kiss the floor_. A thump next to him signalled that this time at least, he wasn’t the only one being thrown around.

With a weak curse, he opened his eyes. His hands were still tied, so were his feet, and try as he might, he couldn’t fucking free himself. Shit, they were both utterly defenceless. Next to him, Bucky didn’t even try to get up.

“That must be Sam,” Barnes whispered. He needn’t have bothered, because by then the sounds of gun shots and the familiar whirr of AIM’s new energy guns ripped through the air. They could probably start yelling like two stuck pigs and it would still take their rescuers some time to actually find them. Clint blinked to dispel the dizziness. _Please, let it not be a concussion, please let it not be a concussion_ , he thought. Those were a bitch to deal with and would mean weeks, maybe even months off the Avengers and SHIELD roster for him.

They lay in silence for what felt like hours, but finally, the sounds around them faded until only voices and yelled commands were heard. He prayed that it was the good guys who’d won the firefight. Not that he’d ever doubt Captain America but he’d pretty much reached his daily limit of ‘fuck ups I can deal with’.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and rested on his back. Whatever happened, it would happen and there was nothing he could do about it.

“You okay there, Barton?” Barnes asked tentatively. Clint only grunted in return.

They both jumped when the door to their armoured vehicle was wrenched open with screeching hinges. Clint blinked against the sudden light and when he could see again, there was Sam in all his freshly acquired patriotic glory. And he’d thought the suit had made _Steve_ look good.

“Aw, look who I found.” Sam smirked down at them. “Don’t you look cozy? Should I have waited a couple more minutes?”

Bucky growled. “Get the fucking restraints off me Wilson or I swear-“

“Alright, alright,” Sam interrupted with his hands raised in defence, “way to thank your knight in shining armour, Barnes.” But he climbed in and pulled a set of keys out regardless.

“Hey, Clint, long time no see.”

“Hey, Sam,” Clint mumbled in return.

“You okay?” Bucky’s shackles fell off with a resounding clang and Sam turned to Clint, pulling out a knife.

“Been better.” With a few rough tugs, the zip ties around his wrists and ankles fell off and he started rubbing the skin where they had dug into his flesh.

He didn’t realise that Bucky had scooted closer until the man spoke up next to him. “Sam, go call an EMT to look at Clint, I’ll help him out.” Clint frowned and Sam’s eyes flicked between them, but Cap eventually shrugged and left the van. Clint didn’t think he actually needed any help and he opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, though, Bucky had grabbed him by the armpits and dragged him to his feet.

He clutched Barnes’ arm unsteadily until his head cleared and he could stand without the other’s assistance. Okay, maybe he needed a _little_ help. “Thanks,” he said and Bucky turned away.

“Whatever,” Barnes mumbled and led the way out of the van, even helped Clint hop down onto the patchy grass below them. Damn, maybe he really needed his head looked at if he was hallucinating Barnes being _nice_ to him.

He looked around, hand still on Bucky’s arm. All around them he could see black clad SHIELD agents leading handcuffed beekeepers into transporters, being seen to by EMTs or just standing around, talking. He spotted Sam weaving through them, a paramedic behind him. He groaned and tried to crawl back into the van but a metal hand gripped him by the shoulder.

“Don’t you dare,” Bucky hissed.

“But I don’t wanna,” Clint whined back, “They’ll just bench me and I’ll die of boredom.

Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly and didn’t meet his eyes. “If they bench you, uhm, I can, I mean.” Clint gave him a confused look. “I mean, _we_ could-“ But Bucky trailed off and cleared his throat again. Clint stared. Then, realisation hit and his eyes widened.

“ _Oh_. Oh, oh, oh. Okay, okay, okay, okay,” he muttered under his breath. Okay, so maybe, _maybe_ , _big maybe_ , it wasn’t _animosity_ between him and Bucky. Maybe it was this infamous UST everyone started giggling about whenever Sam and Steve were one a room together.

Bucky cringed and turned his face away and before Clint could do anything about the not so insignificant shift in reality he’d just been part off, Sam arrived, paramedic in tow.

“There we go,” Sam said all self-satisfied and Clint would have punched him if he wasn’t so afraid of the ass whopping he’d get in return. He reluctantly took his hand off Barnes arm and sat down in the back of the van still behind him, let the paramedic examine him with only a few protests and obediently tried not to squint his eyes when she shone a flashlight into them.

“No concussion,” she said, “but you’ll need to wait a few days for the swelling to go down before we can do anything about your nose.”

“He’ll be seen to by the doctors at the Avengers compound.” Clint slumped at Sam’s words. He’d kind of been hoping to crawl back to his apartment and curl up until the pain was gone but it looked like Sam had other ideas. He threw a look at them. Bucky had his arms crossed and wore his usual neutral face, no trace of his earlier uncertainty. He hummed. Maybe being at the compound for a while wouldn’t end up being too bad.

The woman gave them one last nod and left to tend to some other unfortunate soul. Bucky turned to Sam. “Thanks for bringing the cavalry, by the way.”

Sam only shrugged. “It’s fine. Redwing did most of the work anyway.” He raised his arm and Clint flinched when the falcon dropped down from god knows where and landed on his owner’s arm.

“Knew Redwig would keep an eye on us,” Clint grinned. Sam twitched.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Call him that. Don’t do that. His name is Redwing.”

“That’s what I said,” Clint said innocently. ”Redwig.” Sam twitched again and looked like he already regretted ordering Clint to the compound. Not that he was totally opposed to it, mind you, he just really enjoyed Sam’s discomfort. And going by the glint in Bucky’s eyes, Clint wasn’t the only one.

Sam cleared his throat. “Changing the topic,” he said and Clint almost snickered, “the intel we got was most likely planted to lure us into a trap.” He gave the archer an apologetic shrug. “Sorry that you got pulled into this.” Clint returned the shrug.

“S’okay, Sam. I’m good.”

“If it’s any consolation, Steve’s already stomped over to HQ to light a fire under Fury’s ass.” Sam grinned and this time, Clint didn’t bother holding back his laughter.

“Isn’t he retire? You know, taking a break from the whole superhero business?” He asked.

Bucky scoffed. “As if that little shit knows how to sit still for more than a couple minutes.”

Clint grinned. “Careful, Sam, I bet he’ll want the shield back in less than six months.” Sam snorted.

“As if I’d ever give it back, that thing’s mine now.” Clint and Bucky exchanged a gleeful look before realising that they weren’t normally that friendly with each other. The uncertain look from before returned to Bucky’s eyes and Clint blinked in confusion. When he glanced away and looked back at Sam, the man was studying them again.

“Right,” Sam drawled. “I’ll go overlook the clean-up then. You two… you can go. Leave. Do whatever.” And he turned away and hurried off, Redwing balanced on his shoulder and Bucky’s glare on the back of his head. Clint frowned.

“Where the hell are we even?”

“Somewhere in New Jersey if the smell is any indication.”

“Oh, God,” Clint whined. An awkward silence settled between them.

Then, unable to take it anymore, Clint opened his mouth. “You know what? Let’s steal a car and head back to New York. I’ll even let you buy me a coffee to replace the one I dropped when this whole thing started.” Not his most romantic come one but he had the feeling Bucky wouldn’t mind.

Barnes shrugged (should he stop using the surname now?) and mumbled, “Whatever”. But Clint really didn’t think he’d imagined the tiny smile playing around the other’s lips.

And hey, maybe this day wasn’t quite the _worst,_ after all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [ Tumblr ](https://kidd-you-not.tumblr.com/)


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